


Muscle to Muscle, Toe to Toe

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“'Come on,' she whines, 'it’s just a movie between friends.  I’ll even give you the URL of my favorite site.'" Or, Skye convinces Ward to watch porn and it goes as you would expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muscle to Muscle, Toe to Toe

Title: Muscle to Muscle, Toe to Toe

Summary:  _“Come on,” she whines, “it’s just a movie between friends.  I’ll even give you the URL of my favorite site.”_   Or, Skye convinces Ward to watch porn and it goes as you would expect.

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,448

 

\--

 

The monitor bracelet is a hinderance, a shiny little reminder that Skye had no privacy left on this ship.  She’s not even sure she had much to begin with, but still-everyone else can at least surf the web without the higher ups knowing all their secrets.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she tells Ward, following him down the hallway, “just take this off me for like, 30 minutes.  Just so I can have a breather.”  He stops mid stride, shaking his head.  It’s late enough that she can bother him without the other agents around, and she’s made a rather bad habit out of cornering him.

“I’m not taking the monitor off,” he says (for what feels like the millionth time).  “Also, shouldn’t you be asleep?  We have practice in the morning.”  She rolls her eyes but trudges to her room regardless.

“I can’t even buy shoes online or check the forums or do anything,” she says (because he’s following her to her room so she might as well rant at him), “And you know what else totally sucks about this thing?” Skye groans, flopping onto her bed, “I can’t even search the web for porn.”  She doesn’t miss the way that Ward swallows a little too hard, his adam’s apple pushing against the lines of his throat.  

“What?” she demands.

“Nothing,” he insists, shaking his head too quickly for ‘nothing,’ to actually be the correct answer.

“Is it the porno thing?” Skye asks, grinning wide, “is it that I watch porn?  Because, newsflash, it’s 2013 and-”

“It’s.” he grits his teeth (and he is staring very intently at her shelves and not at her), “Fine.”

 

 

 

“You don’t sound fine,” she says, looping her legs over her bed.  “What’s the matter?  Are you programmed not to like porn?”  She snickers at her own comment.  “Oh!” she adds, bouncing on her bed as the jokes come to her, “Are you programmed not to...you know?”  She makes some obscene gesture with her hands, grinning in a way that’s far too knowing (and maybe oddly curious).  Ward feels at once like he should bolt from her room-but then again, she hasn’t been this informal with him in several weeks, and, well-he misses the banter.  Even if she’s making banter about his-you know. 

“It’s just,” he sucks in a breath through his teeth, “it’s extremely unprofessional to watch porn on this ship.”  She looks at him for a moment, wide eyed, biting on her lip as she tries to stifle her laughter.  She takes a deep inhale through her nose, that stifled smile still on her lips.

“Okay,” she finally breathes, “Okay, Ward,” she raises her hands to her shoulders, “You’re really going to tell me you’ve never watched porn on the ship?  You know, late at night, lock the door, pull out a laptop-”

“Never,” he responds.  She shakes her head.

“You’re such a liar,” she says, falling back onto her bed, letting out a light laugh.  “Oh my god, you’re such a liar!”  Her top has ridden up along her stomach, and Grant finds it calming to stare at the peek of skin dipping into her jeans.  She’s staring at the ceiling, kicking her legs at him.

 

 

 

“Could you sit down?  You’re making me feel awkward.”  He sighs to himself, but places himself on the edge of her bed, looking down at her.  She’s spread her hair out under her head, and he thinks it might be better for him to lay beside her-but chides himself immediately for thinking so.

“Better?” he asks, and she nods.  Her hand is too close to his and he can practically feel the presence of her monitor bracelet beside his own wrist-or maybe that’s just guilt.

“So what?” Skye says, staring intently up at him, “no porn, no sex?”  He chokes back a cough.

“I can have sex!” he demands.  She smiles at him, and he can’t tell if she thinks he’s being funny.

“But you haven’t,” Skye says, “like, ever.”  He draws his mouth into a line.  She shrugs her shoulders, shifting the bedspread under her.  “You’d be less uptight if you did.”

“That’s not true,” he says.  She snickers at him, turning her gaze to the back wall.

“You wanna watch a porno?” she asks, like that’s an acceptable question to throw out there.  She grabs the sleeve of his tee shirt, pulling herself up.  Her hands fold over his shoulder, squeezing him with a newfound excitement.

“No?” he says, and it really shouldn’t sound like a question.

“Come on,” she protests, pushing down on his arm, “it’ll be fun.  I haven’t watched one in forever and,” she releases his shoulder so that she can gesture at her tiny body, “I’ve got major cabin fever in this place.  And you-” she points and accusing finger in his direction, “you need to make more of an effort to bond with your trainee.”

“We’ve been bonding,” he says, and debates whether or not he should get off her bed, “you’ve just been keeping your distance.”  She has the gall to look shocked, then offended, by that statement, bringing her hand to her chest.

“Me?” she demands, “you think I’ve been distant?  Is it nice in that alternate reality of yours?”

“We’re not watching porn,” he says, but Skye’s already reached under her bed and pulled out her laptop (one of them, she has about ten).  She firmly places the laptop in Ward’s lap, opening up the computer and powering it on.

 

 

 

“We’re watching porn,” she says, elbowing him in the ribs.  “It’ll be fun!”  Ward gets the nagging feeling that “fun” might lead to problems.  “You’re going to have to do the googling, though.  Since, you know, monitor wristlet.  You do know how to google porn, right?”  Ward’s fingers hover over the keyboard.  Skye is practically on his lap at this point, and he’s sure if he got up and walked out of the room that they’d never discuss this incident again.  

“Come on,” she whines, “it’s just a movie between friends.  I’ll even give you the URL of my favorite site.”  She takes to poking at his arm.  “Come on!  I dare you, Agent Grant Ward.  I dare you to watch a porno with me.”  He turns to look at her, at the smile perched on her lips and the way she seems happy with him for the first time in recent memory.  He sighs.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, “I have my own ‘favorite  site.’” He makes a face at that last part, a rare show of embarrassment.  Skye claps her hands in amusement.

“Yes!” she exclaims, “called it!”

 

 

 

Ward regrets this decision more than he’s probably ever regretted anything in his life ever, particularly because Skye keeps pointing at the screen and going “Oh, what about that one?”  And he’ll click on it and they’ll watch like, two minutes of it, before Skye will make a face and go, “no, the lighting’s bad,” or “no, I don’t think that guy is hot.”

“You know,” Ward says, “I don’t think there’s this much talking during actual movies.”

“You’ve never seen a movie with me, then,” Skye says.  Her eyes are glued to the computer screen, which is not an unusual look for her-though Ward finds it amusing that she’s so focused on pornography.  Her fingers tap the screen, some video with the word “ropes” in the title, which is new because she’s been keeping everything pretty bondage free.  Not that Ward has been taking a tally in his head, or anything.

“You could suggest something, instead of just taking it,” Skye says, only realizing in the next instant that Ward’s begun to dig his nails into his palms. Her eyes widen for just a fraction of a second.

“You don’t have a ‘favorites,’ list?” Skye adds.  Ward unclenches his fists.  “Or at least a preference into types of porno?  Like, do you want to watch sixty-nining or pegging, or something?” she sounds oddly sympathetic.  Like, poor Ward, he’s still flustered about the fact that he’s watching porno with another person.  

 

 

 

“Hold on,” he grumbles, clicking on a couple links, before pulling up some femdom video.  Which, incidentally, Skye was not expecting.  At all.

“You kinky son of a bitch,” she teases.

“Do you want to watch or not?” he asks.  He’s exasperated, maybe sexually frustrated, maybe both-and he’s into Femdom, apparently, which is a surprise.  And maybe it’s the way Ward's looking at her (like he’s really trying to make her happy here) that quells the snide remark Skye had been saving.

“Sure,” she offers.  “Play it.”

 

 

 

The girl in the video looks nothing like Skye. She’s got short, blonde hair and a nose ring and angel wings tattooed onto her shoulder blades.   But Skye still feels like she’s got this weird connection with her, even if she’s an actress in a porn movie.  Like, she’s a pretty decent actress, for porn, and she’s got a nice enough body, and she’s forcing this guy to jack off while she watches and holy crap, this was not what Skye was expecting. 

 

 

 

The guy is pretty hot, and sort of scary well-endowed, in that way that porno actors tend to be.  And he looks really, really good jerking off.  (Would Ward look that good?  Holy fuck don’t think that).  The actor lets out this choked moan, and the actress glares at him, making him continue working on his own cock, completely soundless.  It kind of makes sense, that super in control Ward fantasizes about losing control once in a while, and that idea shouldn’t make Skye squirm.  Just a little.  Not enough for Ward to notice.

“She’s, um, fun,” Skye offers, her voice sounding strained.  “You know, in that, dominatrix kind of way.”  Skye squeaks out the word ‘dominatrix,’ and thinks that maybe banter is not a good idea when she’s this worked up.  She can’t actually bring herself to look at Ward-this had been her idea, ‘a movie between friends,’ but now the actress is lowering herself onto the actor, and she can apparently moan as loud as she wants, and she wants to moan really, really loudly. 

 

 

And then, because it’s porn, the camera makes a point of zooming into the guy’s cock entering the actress, and that’s when Ward digs his hand into Skye’s thigh.  She feels his touch shoot up her leg-and that’s when she notices that she’s apparently really, really wet.  Which shouldn’t be that surprising, given that’s what happens when you watch porn, but this was supposed to be a fun, jokey thing, not a weird, sexual thing.

“Are you okay?” she asks, before she can really think better of it (and maybe she asks because she’s so not okay).

“Yeah,” he mutters, his voice deeper than it had been fifteen minutes prior.  She wills herself to look at him, only to find that he’s not looking at the screen, he’s looking at her, and she gets the nagging feeling that he’s been watching her this whole time-which does not help the whine she’s trying to bite back.  He studies her face, the way she’s digging her fingers into the bedspread.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, in that same tone.  She shakes her head.

“Not really,” she says, a little too breathy for anyone’s good.  His eyes fall to her lips, like he’s watching her mouth the words (like he needs that conformation).  She tries to smile, and it’s not that she’s unhappy or upset but she’s horny as hell and if Ward is going to look at her like that, then he needs to make a move or get out of her bedroom.

 

 

 

He picks the former.  He picks it quickly, swooping in to press his lips to hers and letting the laptop fall to the wayside (it’s fine, SHIELD laptops are literally built to withstand the end of days).  Skye shifts quickly, hooking her legs around his waist.  Which might be a little forward, but so is watching porn with your Supervising Officer. 

 

 

Ward kisses her like he’s intent on really, really getting to know the intricacies of her lips and her teeth and her tongue, which winds around his tongue (and she’s wanted his tongue in her mouth for so, so long).  Someone on the laptop moans, Skye thinks it might be the guy, and Ward growls (like actually makes a growling sound, who does that), against her lips.

“Down, boy,” she murmurs.  He chuckles against her, twisting her back onto the mattress in one swift motion.  She places her hand in the center of his chest, stilling him for just a moment. 

“Mind if we move off the edge of the bed?” Skye asks, taking a moment to trace the lines of Ward’s pecs under his shirt.  “I know you’re super coordinated but I keep thinking that I’m going to fall-”  He lifts her off the bed and places her back on her pillows.  She takes a beat to grin at him before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in for another kiss.  She bites his lower lip, and he flinches but doesn’t pull back. 

 

 

He cups her face and pushes the kiss deeper, and she sighs.  It’s not something she usually does, but it feels like the right thing to do.  She would be content to kiss him, she really would, if she wasn’t also in the mood to have him fuck her into the mattress.  She grabs his hair and pulls his head back.

“Take off your shirt?” she asks, as the actress in the porno yells “oh fuck, oh fuck,” over and over in the background.  He smiles, in a way that brightens his entire face (it makes him look like another person, if only for an instant), and pulls his shirt off over his head.  Which gives Skye free reign to trace her nails over his torso, obviously.

 

 

 

“God,” she notes, “you are really, really attractive.”  He chuckles, and dives right back in, letting Skye push his head down to her neck.  “You can take my shirt off, too,” she says, and he proceeds to move back up to her lips before pulling her tank top up and over her head (and she notices the way his hands brush her breasts as he does so).  

“And the bra.” she says. He nods, and she makes sure to squirm against him as he pulls her to his chest, reaches around her back, and unhooks her bra.  He cups her breasts in his hands, giving himself a moment to memorize the lines of her ribs and how soft her breasts feel in his hands.  And then-he’s kissing the space between her breasts, her stomach, her navel, sliding his hands down her sides, and he’s unbuttoning her jeans. 

 

She finally lets out that whine she’d been saving, his mouth is still moving lower and he wastes no time pulling down her jeans (and her underwear with them) and taking a long, slow lick, dragging up from her cunt to her clit. 

And he sighs against her, like he’s never been so content.  He lets out a moan as he begins to suck against her clit, making her gasp.  She finds it surprisingly natural to thread her hands into his hair, and let him go down on her.  He presses his fingers against her thighs, and she feels one of his hands creep up her leg as he licks upward against her clit.  And she doesn’t mean to curse,

“Holy fuck!” when he slips two fingers inside her, but he lets out another low, rumbling noise when she does, so she says it again.  “Holy fuck,” she moans, pressing her hips up.  He rolls her clit against his tongue, twists his fingers inside her.  She kicks against the mattress, feeling tightness build inside her (he won’t stop, he won’t stop holy fuck!) 

 

 

She’s started to quiver under him, which makes him groan loudly against her, like he’s encouraging him to come into his hand and really, who is she to disappoint?  She presses her head back against the pillows of her bed and pulls his hair as he wrenches the orgasm from her, makes her shake against his mouth because he really, really knows how to use that tongue.

 

 

“Ward,” she says, still in a haze, “could you please fuck me?”  He unzips his jeans and Skye hears something like “you like that?  you like that?” from the computer.  She gets up on her knees to meet him in a kiss, he’s naked and she’s naked and maybe she’s crazy-but it feels like they’ve been supposed to do this forever (and thank you SHIELD, for equipping the bedroom nightstands with contraceptives). 

 

 

He kisses her with an urgency that wasn’t there before, and it’s his turn to whine, pressing his erection against her inner thigh.  She pushes him onto his back and grabs his length in her hand, watches him as his head lolls back and his eyes shut.  She pumps his cock a few times, just to make him moan (and she thinks she hears him say ‘please,’) before rolling the condom onto him.  She hovers over him, her hips just above his, and when gives him a nod he grabs her hips and thrusts into her. 

 

 

He seems to lose it the second he enters her, and she doesn’t mind because he’s taken to grabbing her ass and pushing her down against him as he fucks her.  She braces her hands against his shoulders and buries her head in the crook of his neck, making little, breathy cries of pleasure for every moans he makes.  He moves faster, and she feels like he’s filling her almost too tightly, and it’s driving her insane, the way his cock seems to hit just the right spot inside her each time he pushes inside her. 

 

 

She shudders against him, grinding her hips down as another orgasm twists inside her.  She spasms around Ward’s cock, she spasms and she screams into his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around her and presses body to his as her writhing hips drive him to release.

\--

 

Skye is under the covers when Ward comes back from his quick cleanup, and she regards the way he awkwardly stands in her doorway, like he’s waiting for her approval.  She greats him with a grin, shifting over in her bed.

“You can come cuddle with me,” she teases, “if you want.”  He gives her a small smile back, and climbs into the bed.  She presses her back to his chest, giving him a moment to adjust his body against hers.

 

 

 

“Can you at least let me sleep a bit before round two?” she asks, She’s still naked (and so is he), and his hand has begun to trace along her stomach.  “I mean, I don’t know if you’re programmed to sleep, but-” he places a kiss against the back of her neck.  It’s sweet and surprising and it makes her lose her train of thought completely.

“I’ve...” he begins, pausing to gather his thoughts, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Skye teases, “since you kind of turned into a porn star for a bit.”  Ward groans (in embarrassment, this time), and Skye wiggles against him.  “No!” she chides him, “it was hot.  It was fine.  It was great, actually.  Glad they programmed you to do that.”

“You know we broke at least five protocols?” Ward asks her.  He sounds like he’s pleased.  It’s kind of surprising.

“You’re the one in my bed,” Skye replies, “I think that makes it your fault.  And besides, everyone knows rules are more of an optional thing.”  She rolls over, facing him, letting him wrap her into his arms.

“So then,” he says, “I guess you won’t mind breaking other protocols?”  She laughs against him.

“We can break as many as you want,” she says.  He’s warm against her, and the steady rise and fall of his chest (and his soft breathing) is starting to make her sleepy.  

 

 

 

“You should rest,” he tells her.  “It’s easier for me to fall asleep if you’re already out.”

“So you do sleep!” she says, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.  He shrugs.

“On occasion,” he replies.


End file.
